


Pre-killed enemies

by Eye_of_Purgatory



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies, Angst, No Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21753307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eye_of_Purgatory/pseuds/Eye_of_Purgatory
Summary: It seemingly came out of nowhere, but Peter logically knew it was there for a very long time. The disappearances, the blatant lies, the fear in the police force, the violently dropping crime rates had been going on for months, if not years.The zombie virus breaks out in small and isolated cases around the world, but when an enormous event happens in Beijing the avengers are drawn there, leaving Peter alone as NYC experiences the same.
Kudos: 3





	Pre-killed enemies

Peter crawls through the window of the compound, eyes falling to the pile of gadgets surrounding Mr. Stark, indisposed with the machinery are small piles of papers. The room seems to be whirling in a way that nearly makes Peter motion sick.

“Hey Mr. Stark!” The man looks around, bags deep on his eyes and a body covered in different greases and metal shavings. Peter silently walks closer, but stops when Mr. Stark glares.

“Kid, now’s not the time. Talk to Happy about it.” He bites out, picking up then nearly throwing a small object in front of him, when Peter looks closer he can see many other very similar gadgets scattered. One that is more pristine than the others sits in front of Peter, which he picks up. The small machine has a sort of mechanism like a taser.

“Happy’s gone on vacation, you know that.” The boy walks around the table, looking at all the nearly identical gadgets before circling back to the different one, “What's this?” Peter holds up the device in front of Mr. Stark, who sighs mildly.

“Haven’t gotten that working yet. You should leave,” Peter pockets the small device, “The avengers have been summoned to deal with an” he coughs, “an incident in Beijing.” Peter hears a small voice notify Mr. Stark that it’s time to leave.

“What’s this got to do with it?” Peter watches eagle eyed as Mr. Stark starts to package up the papers lying around the place, each with a different set of notes.

“I’m almost sure it’s nanobots. So this is meant to disable them, but none of these work.” He closes the latch to the briefcase.

“What’s nanobots?” Peter walks over to the corner of the room, dropping the spider suit into a mockery of a laundry chute.

“We don’t exactly know yet, all we have are vague reports asking for help. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“I can help.”

“This is official avengers business, and you have school tomorrow, you can’t just up and take off to Beijing.”The parenting tone bristles at Peter, who settles for slouching on the table.

“Why is this official avengers business? Can I come?” Mr. Stark snorts and shakes his head, brushing off the question. 

“You didn’t care about it back when it was germany.”

“That was in july. Schoolwork is important, we can take care of this.” Mr. Stark checks his watch as he stands up away from the desk.

“When will you be back?

“We leave just about now, and should be back anytime within the next week.” He starts to head out and as he is walking away calls back, “Do whatever you came here for but don't mess with anything!”

“Bye Mr. Stark!” Peter calls out, to a grunt of agreement, swinging back to the center of the city.

-

A pained groan sounds from the ground, snapping Peter out of his web slinging daze. The red clad hero lands on the ground near an alleyway to the sight of a figure standing over a limp body.

“Are you both alright?” He calls out, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the alleyway quickly to see the both forms covered in blood,

“Sh-she bit me.” The standing form calls out shakily, seemingly a young woman with black hair and skin. The limp form on the floor seems to be an older white woman, probably one of the many drug addicts who live on the streets.

“Is she alright?” He moves closer to the standing woman, eyeing as she clutches her left shoulder in a way that holds her entire left arm to her chest.

“I-h” He listens to her as the her breathing becomes frantic, “I-h didn’t mean it. I’m sorry I just panicked.” Peter’s eyes are drawn to the prone form on the ground but nothing can be easily seen in the darkness. But then he sees it, the head has been smashed against the pavement and crumpled the skull. The thick smell of infected decay permeates the corpse.

“She isn’t alive, what happened to her?” Even with his basic level of knowledge on anatomy Peter knows something is wrong about this, “Karen please call the police and alert them there is a body in the alleyway of 22cd street.” He shortly hears the affirmative chirp of KAREN in his ear.

“What do you mean?” The woman is almost manic, with a tear stained face and the wound she is covering quite obviously leaking blood, “I didn’t mean it! I promise you!”

“It’s ok miss, I believe you, just stay calm please.” He stands up away from the body, “Can you please tell me how she died.”

“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t she just bit me and,” her voice gets steadily breathier as she goes on, “i don’t know I pushed her to the ground and she bit me again and I banged her head against the ground over and over again and it just crumpled. And and and I didn’t mean it.”

“This lady must be far into rotting for having died recently.” He mumbles, looking around the alleyway for a moment before nearing the corpse again.

“Well she did die recently, only just before you got here.” He doesn’t touch the form, though quickly Peter notices a bite mark right below the right elbow. The skin seems to be a sickly pale color.

“Are you alright, you’re probably feeling a little lightheaded. You are bleeding after all.” Peter says, though still looking at the corpse at the same time he is very deliberately trying to sound more confident than he is. He can guess that the woman notices.

“Yeah a bit.” His ears perk up with the faint sound of a pained wheeze, a sickly rumbling of the lungs. An idiot would be able to tell the woman is downplaying it.

“You might want to sit down and rest, apply pressure to the wound.” He looks back to make sure the woman is doing as told, eyes darting worriedly to the girl’s bloodshot ones. Peter gets up to walk around the body, looking for any more clues to what might have happened.

“‘M head hurts.” The voice snaps him out of his investigative trance, a small pained voice.

“Are you alright?” He rushes over to the woman, getting close enough to hear the uneven breathing and the uneven heartbeat, “You uh- you really don’t sound very good.” a nervous chuckle escapes.

“I dontfell very good.” She near whispers, words threatening to slur together. Maybe it isn’t that loud, maybe Peter is just having trouble hearing it over his rapid heartbeat.

“Let me see the wound, I think I can help.” The girl removes a hand from the wound, the god awful horrible wound. It is deep, a giant chunk bitten out of the shoulder that leaves the tissue of the muscle nearly fraying at the edges. There is a froth that he hopes not came from the wound, but the large quantities of thick pus that must have look even worse. Arteries have been torn, but are covered in a wound scabbed over like it has been days, no blood comes out even though it stains the entire front of her shirt.

But then it hits him, the smell the god damn smell of the worst scents that makes him want to hide or vomit or he doesn’t know what. It smells like grief for death, it smells like fermented hate. It smells like days old corpse. It smells like the bottom of a sewer, like the feeling of a pepper stuck up a nose, like the burning of hair.

So wordlessly he rips up the ruined coat she was wearing to bandage the wound, hands shaking with fear and worry and with not knowing what to do.

“I’m going to be alright, yeah?” Peter opens his mouth like a fish before shutting it again, but at the very faint sound of sirens he stands up and nearly bolts.

“The police will be hear soon to make sure that everything gets taken care of. I’ll be off now.” He turns around and heads back to the little apartment him and his aunt call home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope nobody gets too high expectations for the rest of this, I will most likely update infrequently. I'm sorry in advance! I hope you liked it, if you did let me know!


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